Unforeseen: Frostbitten
by Red R
Summary: With an uproar of what many label as "gang violence" between the many villainous groups of Pokémon, relations among people have become shaky as the world has begun to brew with something much deeper than ever seen before.
1. He to Not Bother

**Unforeseen - Frostbitten**

 **Prologue**

* * *

It's been about ten years since the legendary Pokémon, Yveltal, attempted to destroy all life on Earth. And it's been about ten years since an unnamed person has stopped Yveltal from doing such.

No one could tell who this man was, nor why Yveltal had suddenly decided to try and kill off life.

But what was known was that the man did not stop Yveltal with a Pokémon—but instead, what can be classed in as a sword.

Since then, things have been about . . . normal. The only difference is that people have been much more untrustworthy with Pokémon. Quickly, large businesses capitalized on the large interest in personal defense weapons, and it went on from there.

Overnight, a business-wide revolution occurred and left even the most poor of people with a means of self-defense—from both Pokémon and People.

Nowadays, it would be uncommon to find someone without some weapon fastened to their side. Where I live, most weapons were nothing more than ornaments, since nothing much happened around my area.

Alto Mare, I'd call it. Yeah, I lived there. For the richer of people—though I guess I was an exception from that rule.

It _was_ a fairly laid-back place. Lots of peaceful Pokémon, lots of events, and lots of visitors.

But as I said, it _was_ peaceful. It wasn't too long ago that it changed—earlier in this day, in fact.

And that all started from another leisurely walk around. . . .

* * *

It's been a very odd week for not just myself, by my town in general.

Not that it's all that incredibly bad, but these "Pokémon Activist" dudes have been camping around here for a while. Pretty sure their name is Team Plasma. They keep talking about "liberating all Pokémon" and stuff like that—which doesn't really effect me, since I don't own any.

But it's still kind of worrying. Based on what I can remember of them, they're not exactly the best of people. Haven't talked to any yet, though, so I can't say.

I was sitting at a table from the local shop I usually go to, sipping down on the same flavor of smoothie I'd always get. The banana and strawberry was a bit hard to get down, this time. Would figure since the couple people inside there were rushing pretty quickly.

And the reason I was mentioning that stuff about Team Plasma was because my eyes were distracted by a group of them marching down the road—six of them together.

Of course, they weren't directly on the road—in Alto Mare, our roads were just water. "Canal City" is what you could call it, since the only two ways of transportation were by foot and by boat. As you could imagine, taxis made _a lot_ of money.

My drink had since-then been finished, and I lazily left it on the glass table, before standing up and walking from the store. The sky had been oddly dark, for some reason. Like, the same way it would when a terrible storm was about to come. But it wasn't raining—leaving the entire town under a large shadow.

The only effect it had was on my mood—making me feel tempered, at best. I'd call it angry, if that's what's prefered.

So I began walking down the sides of an otherwise luxurious ocean town. The scenery was still pleasant, with tan-bricked buildings reaching two-stories high—all the way to the small structures that either served as shops, museums, or houses of "interesting design." To me, they looked like wastes of money, really.

But the more I walked, the more I noticed something. I was the only person outside at the moment.

The only people aside from myself were those Team Plasma dudes. Looked like I seriously missed something important.

Just as I stopped to take a look around, I heard someone behind me.

"What are you doing out right now?" a male voice asked.

I turned around, finding a man in what looked like standard Team Plasma gear. It was this black outfit that fit tightly to his body, topped off with a beret of dark gray and black.

". . . Pardon?" I asked in a mumble, frowning at this guy.

"Have you not heard of the imposed martial law on Alto Mare?" he questioned, pressing in his loud tone.

"Excuse me?"

"Obviously not, then," he muttered, staring at me. Looking into his green eyes, it was quite visible that he was frustrated—possibly with me. But then again, I wasn't being all that friendly to him looks-wise.

"Yesterday, Team Plasma imposed martial law onto this town—" he gripped the handle of the sword he kept at his side "—and we've made many examples of people who didn't listen."

"Is that a threat?" I prodded, glaring samely.

His eyes rolled, before he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Slowly, and smoothly, his free hand would bring out a long, brilliant blade that even shone in the dark lighting that surrounded us.

"I'll make this quick on you—as I'm sure our leaders won't mind adding another person to the tally," he told, slowly raising his weapon.

Pissed off, I quickly brought out my sword and swung it at his, effectively severing it in half with the sound of a clang. But before he could even react in surprise, I grabbed his suit by the collar, before throwing him off the sidewalk and into the water street by our side.

I turned around and began walking again, sheathing my blade back to where it belonged. Some people never get the memo to not bother with someone who's not in a good mood.


	2. Unplanned

**Chapter Two - Unplanned**

* * *

Closing the door behind me, I walked up a set of stairs, before turning into my apartment. It was neatly picked-up, just as I had left it.

My bed was made, the kitchen was as close as I could manage to get it to being spotless, and there wasn't a spec of dirt visible on my gray carpet.

Of course, I lived in a small place, so it wasn't hard to keep clean. And the blue walls really lightened the place up. But even with the lights on, it was abnormally dark for a time like this.

Peering through a blind with my finger tugged down, I looked outside. There were _a lot_ of those Team Plasma guys out there.

I was safe, though, since I lived on the second floor of the building. It was doubtful that they'd decide to come through my doors.

And if they did? Eh . . . well, I'm sure I could worry about that later.

Working my way back to the one-seater I had in front of my television set, I plunked down on it, sinking in comfortably. For "cheap furniture," I sure was living well.

Hand on the remote to my TV, I pressed it on. It did turn on, but the screen stayed black. No stereotypical static or stuff like that, but just black.

Before I could get more into it, a loud clunk sounded from outside, causing me to jump in my seat. Quickly, I stood up and ran to my patio window, before opening it and looking outside.

There stood a good fifty or more—definitely more—of those Team Plasma people, seeming to surround my apartment from whatever direction they could. Since the roads were pretty limited, they were forced to line up behind one another as they converged on this one spot under my patio.

Continuous sounds of metal clanging and various footwork would go on, before I frowned and looked over to the space just down and left of my patio.

With this really long, light-green hair, and a black and white cap—not to mention a white shirt and some tan khakis—some young man stood in pose as those Plasma guys would take their turns in trying to attack him.

My brows came to furrow, as I was taking a minute to process the scene—since he _was_ holding his own against so many people. Must've been a pretty good fighter. But he definitely wasn't winning.

"Hey! Leave the guy alone!" I shouted, banging my fist twice against the stone rail I leaned on.

A man in all-different decor—of Team Plasma, wearing a big cloak instead of a tight-fitting suit—looked at me, before shouting back, "We'll deal with your defiance after this man!"

Well, that looked like a pretty open invitation to me.

Kicking my legs up onto the side of my deck, I laid there for a second, before slowly rolling off and plummeting feet-first.

One of my feet caught onto a man's shoulder, who then proceeded to thunk to the ground since I wasn't very light. Whether he was knocked out or not wasn't really a concern, as I put my back up against the wall. It was much more crowded than I thought prior.

From the moshpit of clanging and yelling came a single aimed sword in my direction, to which I ducked under. I regained my footing up until another attack came my way, but instead of dodging, I pulled my sword half-way from its sheath, blocking it altogether. Repeatedly, the same weapon swung at me, before I leaned over and grabbed that blade, managing to yank it out of whomever's hand. Throwing that aside, my free-hand attached to the sword I owned, before slowly drawing it out and raising it.

Before continuing, visuals might be easier to imagine if I explain what that looks like, first. My sword was just a standard pseudo-longsword in that it was too long to be a short one, but too short to be a long one. Its handle was wrapped in leather, and long enough to fit two hands—though I barely did that.

It was a gift from my mom. Probably the only real cool thing I own.

So, with that gift I held, I proceeded to thrust it inward—into the hand of an unlucky Plasma grunt. She screamed and dropped her sword, which I caught, before turning around and jamming it into the leg of another person.

Following to a drawn-back stance with my blade at eye-level, I moved low and forward while cutting deeply into the haunch of another. I was in the middle of the crowd, now, keeping my movements as tight together as I possibly could. Switching in hands, I swung my sword upwards, slashing into the back of someone else.

Among the collection of people, I felt a sharp stab into my left leg. Following a pained noise, I arched my side outward and jut my blade into the arm of the individual. In no good space, I grabbed a person and threw myself back into the middle with that other person—the one with green hair.

I only caught a glimpse, but he was bleeding pretty badly from some part of his head. Panting and just trying to keep himself from getting killed—I would believe.

There wasn't much I had done, which meant I had to do something fast, or I might end up dead.

I saw the extended wrist of a man, thrusting his weapon forward to try and hit me—missing altogether. It wasn't something I really wanted to do, but decisively, I cut my sword upward from my side, severing his hand entirely.

He shouted in pain, but I kept moving on against these guys.

Following my sword's momentum, blood slipped off, before I took another swing, embedding my blade into the shoulder of another person. I yanked the weapon out of there, which left a sheet of fresh blood on the metal of the sword.

As all had continually tried to do, stabs and cuts would repeatedly come around, but too slow to really be hit by. These people had no space, which was good in my favor.

Yet again, I swung, slicing down the chest of an unguarded man's torso. And again, I attacked. And again. And again. And again.

And the more I did so, the more space I managed to take. Looking back, I noticed that the other guy was managing about as well as I had. Difference being that it looked like he had actually killed a few people.

I jut my head back into my direction, slowly cutting at the crowd with light movements and otherwise non-harming cuts or stabs.

It wasn't until a little after that I noticed that people were running off—slowly bringing more and more of the crowd with them. As they'd back up, they'd notice that there was no one behind them like before. So, repeatedly, they'd run off—away from here.

Up to the last person, I stood, stopping to stand in place as she realized she was the last one there. Similarly, she turned around and ran off.

I watched in that direction until I couldn't see anymore of those Team Plasma people, before taking the shirt under my sweatshirt and wiping off the bit of blood that collected on my sword. It slid back into place all the same, which left me to just stare.

A hand padded at my shoulder, causing me to jump and turn around.

That man with green hair . . . all I could really notice was that his eyes were alternating colors—one was red, and one was blue. I blinked and tilted my head over, watching him move his mouth with no sound.

He was definitely talking to me, but I couldn't hear anything. Everything was tuned out, which left me staring blankly to this man.

"Are you okay?" I first heard, my vision snapping back to the sound of his voice, and the gentle washing-over of the water right by my feet.

Slowly, I nodded, answering, "Yeah, are you?"

". . . I am, yes. Got cut up a bit . . . but I'm fine," he told.

Taking a moment to catch my breath, I turned away from him and sighed, looking out to the town.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"My dad's trying to get me killed."

I frowned, questioning, "Your dad? Why?"

"He needed me for something, but now he doesn't, and I'm apparently a problem if left alive," he explained.

I looked to him, taking on a blank face as I couldn't really understand what he meant. Why would his dad do that to him?

"Oh, my dad's the leader of Team Plasma. Ghetsis."

"Ah . . . I guess that makes a bit more sense."

"Yeah. . . . But now that I'm still alive, I can't even take a minute to relax . . ." he muttered.

"Why not?"

"My dad—Ghetsis—he's going to destroy this island as a test for his new 'weapon'."

I stared, scrutinizing him with squinted eyes.

"None of what you're telling me makes sense," I stated.

He sighed and looked to his feet, kicking at the ground some.

"Look . . . my dad, Ghetsis, is the leader of Team Plasma. He's come to Alto Mare to test out his new weapon. That's why he's imposed 'Martial Law,' just in case someone else would decide to try and stop him from doing what he's doing. Plus, it would apparently keep all people inside and make it easier for him," he would follow to explain.

". . . Huh."

With my short reaction, he then turned around and began to run down the street.

"Hey, where're you going?" I loudly asked.

"I'm going to stop my father."

"W-well wait, stop!"

And so he did, turning around and looking at me as I made a slight jog up to him.

"What's this weapon he's planning to use?"

". . . That weapon is the legendary Pokémon, Groudon."

I wide-eyed at him, yet again eyeballing oddly. Though, with what's been happening . . . I guess it was believable to a degree. Even if it was the technical "god" of what everyone knows as ground. Even that was somewhat believable.

"Really?"

"Yes. He's going to destroy this island with that Pokémon. And after that, he might go after the major regions."

My look deviated to my feet, watching as I tapped the floor a few times.

"Well, I guess I'll help you, then."

"Wait, really?" he asked, surprised somewhat.

"Yeah. If what you're saying is true, then I should come since I don't really feel like dying today."

"O-okay! Then come on!" he commanded, before breaking into a sprint in the same direction he had. Similarly, I followed, running alongside him in the heavy clothes I had on. My eyes looked over to him, but he continued to look forward.

Thinking back on it, everything was pretty surreal. I was following this guy whose name I didn't even know, past the scene of what could be a potential dozens of dead men, and towards the threat of a "god."

Not what I planned to do on a normal Tuesday afternoon.


	3. To Stop Evil Too Late

**Chapter Three - To Stop Evil Too Late**

* * *

"Who are you?" I was asked.

"My name's Dan," I answered.

"Well, that's your name—yes, Dan—but _who_ are you?" he continued.

"What do you mean?"

"I've never seen anyone fight like that. You could've easily killed all those men, but it looks like you just refrained from killing them altogether. Yet, you did as well as I did myself."

That guy was talking to me as we were running. I had decided to follow behind, since he knew where we were going and I didn't.

". . . I'm just really good with swords, I guess."

The only real training I've gotten were public courses. Though, I was at the top of every class.

All of those teachers told me that it wasn't because I was more skilled, though. It's because I'm so much faster than so many people, and my reflexes are unreal. More often than not, I'd always hear: "Why don't you go professional?"

That wasn't something I wanted to do. My life here was completely fine—no need to change it.

There's an answer if you're wondering why I suddenly decided to come with this guy. I don't want my home to be destroyed. Even though I've lived here for just six months, it's the most comfortable I've ever been. I'll do a lot to protect it.

"I'm _N_ , by the way, Dan," he interjected, arms pumping back and forth as he ran.

"What a way to meet," I joked, looking to my side.

Maybe I held back a little too much against those Team Plasma people.

It wasn't common, but I'd find bodies leaned up against buildings and blood dried along the stone flooring of the town. It's obvious they died from the brutality these guys showed—resisting or not.

They might be just following orders. If I know anything about the average coup of people, you'll notice that the leader is far more scarier than most other normal human beings. Those guys were probably just following orders. Maybe brainwashed. Who knows. They're still human. And I'm not so keen on ending another person's life.

"We're almost there, Dan. If I lose to him, then I'm going to need you to fight my father, Ghetsis. Even kill him, if you really have to," he coldly told.

"Shouldn't I fight him first?"

"No. If I can, this is a battle I have to fight myself."

". . . And kill your dad?"

"I won't call him my dad anymore. It's not like he cared in the first place. . . . And I don't want revenge, either. If you can get off without killing him, then do that, Dan. But I just want what's best for the world."

I kept silent, listening to what _N_ had to say.

"He brainwashed me into thinking Team Plasma was all for freeing Pokémon. But as of recently, I've learned that his plan was to just obtain the strongest Pokémon, then rule over the world with it. I've stopped him a few times, but this time . . . is a lot different."

". . . Got it."

Up ahead stood a large, gray dome. The structure was a very old building—an ancient one that's well-known throughout the city. It's a museum, and also the place where most public events are held at. It would make sense that this big event would be held around here.

And just before that stood a line of Team Plasma grunts, standing guard and in an entirely straight line. _N_ rushed forward, pulling out his sword and slicing down through two of them, all before the rest could even react. While only really hurting one, he completely slit the throat of one of them. He just ran past them, and as did I, but the one that had his neck cut open.

I caught sight of him, running past. Just as I said before . . . human. Chances were that he wasn't going to make it, either.

My sigh was cut off as I skid to a stop, watching _N_ stand a short distance from this man in a black cloak. In the black cloak, the most I caught in physical-appearance was his similarly green hair, which spiked outward in three different directions. Without attacking, those grunts surrounded the area and stood. I looked about, before returning my attention to _N_ and what I'd imagine to be his father.

His dad turned around, slowly bringing his eyes to meet his son's.

"I knew that wouldn't be enough to kill you . . . but you came back?" Ghetsis asked.

"I did. . . ."

"Why? I was trying to keep you alive here, son."

"Don't call me 'son'. I'm not your son anymore, Ghetsis."

Reaching to his side, Ghetsis pulled out a slightly curved blade, which was similar to _N_ 's. They were both the same models, it looked like—'Katanas', for a more specific term.

"Apparently not, _N_."

 _N_ leaned down into a low stance, holding his sword in his higher hand and aiming it at his disowned father. Ghetsis took more of a fencer-like stance, putting one hand behind his back and leaving the other to hold onto his weapon.

"Well, _N_ , I can't let you get in the way of the operation. If killing you is what it takes to stop you, then that's what I will do."

Lacking hesitation to the utmost degree, _N_ immediately leapt forward at Ghetsis. Albeit fast in his movements, Ghetsis only took one similar movement to deflect his son's slash, leaning forward in a wave-like motion. Following up, Ghetsis swung at his opposer's opening, just to hit nothing as _N_ shuffled back.

 _N_ took at a stabbing motion, just to be cut off from Ghetsis' block, before he riposted with a down-up cut. _N_ locked his blade with the other, stopping it from moving, before turning under it and taking a cut at Ghetsis' back. Yet again, it was blocked, before _N_ stabbed another time at the much older man's side.

With unhesitant eyes, Ghetsis locked his blade with _N_ 's and twisted it about, before pointing the tip of the blade into the hand of his opponent and freeing the blade, before tossing it aside with his own sword.

 _N_ stumbled back, already looking tired with the blood from his face dried up.

"You can't beat me. Please, just leave the city and get safe."

"I won't let you just kill all these people like that."

"Even if you were to beat me right now, there'd be no stopping it. If I were to be killed right now, there would be no one to control Groudon when he comes out of that portal," he explained, nodding his head back behind him.

Written on the ground in what looked like a brightly-glowing chalk was a circle with several symbols inside it. It was similar to the looks of a pentagram, but not exactly.

". . . What?" _N_ queried, looking behind Ghetsis.

"That's right. So if you want to waste more time fighting, then I won't be so lenient on you this second time around."

 _N_ took another step back, looking at his hand. There was an incision where Ghetsis had stabbed to disarm him, now bleeding.

"Fine," he said, "but only if you fight him." Slowly, he brought his hand up to point at me.

". . . Is this a joke? You know we're the finest fighters in our region, right, _N_? And even then, with my teachings, you still couldn't beat me. If you're just trying to kill him, then let the grunts take care of it."

"I'm being serious, Ghetsis. And he's better than both myself and you."

 _N_ got oddly eyed over by not only Ghetsis, by the grunts included. But one stepped out, pleading in his case:

"It's true. He was able to fend off our entire group without killing one man."

The man speaking was the one whose hand I had taken. You could see as it was roughly bandaged, and blood was still leaking through it.

". . . We'll see about that," Ghetsis muttered, before taking a step forward. "Fine. Come, young man, bring out your sword."

I blinked, now having the attention focused on me. Gradually, I took my steps forward, before standing right next to _N_. He stepped back, quietly watching.

"Before we fight, though . . . I will need your name," Ghetsis told.

"My name is Daniel Lupo."

"Daniel Lupo, hnm? Well, if you don't already know, my name is Ghetsis Harmonia."

I didn't say anything more than what I had before I took my hand to the side and gripped onto the weapon I kept. The noise it made echoed about as it slid from its holster, properly being handled into a stance that I took.

"Now let's see if you're as well-off as _N_ make-believes to be."

Ghetsis took a stance, and I followed the same. With one leg behind another, and my sword held out in front of myself, I stood still. In his stance before, he also stood still.

"I see how you play, Daniel," he muttered, before taking slow steps towards me. I was on the defensive side of this fight.

And in a few steps, he found himself in distance of me. But without attacking, he stared me down, and I did the same.

Flashing his metal forward, he stabbed at me without telegraphing his decision beforehand. But my blade came to match his, grinding across it before sliding off and striking a cut into Ghetsis' side—myself twirling about in the same motion.

Ghetsis froze as I was suddenly not gone, bringing his free hand to his side and faltering.

"Wh-what!?" he shouted.

The battle wasn't over, however. And so I followed, turning myself around and aiming my sword at his wielding-hand. Quickly, he parried my sword upward. But turning myself about yet again, my free hand grabbed his wrist. My sword-hand gained momentum, before I made a cut into his forearm.

It cut clean-through, leaving the front part of his arm to fall to the ground and for blood to quickly start flooding out.

I began taking steps back, sheathing my sword as he shouted out in pain.

"Ah! G- . . . how!?" he cried—not upset, but confused.

". . . I told you," _N_ stated.

Not a word would come from me, as I stopped in place and stared at him.

"How're you so fast?" he asked me, meekly raising his head to look at me.

Ignoring his question, I looked around to the surrounding soldiers. They all had confused looks on their faces, to which I took advantage of.

"If you guys don't leave, then I'll kill each and every one of you!" I shouted.

It showed just how much they feared Ghetsis, because they all proceeded to bolt faster than I'd like to believe. Even from a bluff as big as that.

"It's over, Ghetsis. Cancel the summoning now," _N_ continued, stepping up next to me.

". . . I- . . . I can't," he told.

"What!?" _N_ asked, exasperated.

"I can't st—"

Before the next word was said, a giant explosion rocked the area around all of us. Quickly, we were surrounded in smoke and what I saw as soot. Soon, ashes settled to the ground, giving a low amount of visibility to myself. I looked around, and found _N_ 's eyes wide in shock.

As if in an instant, fire had set to any surrounding areas outside of what small circle we all stood in.

"N-No . . ." _N_ mumbled, visibly shaken.

My visibility was incredibly limited, now. All I saw was _N_ , then Ghetsis just a little bit away from us. And slowly, Ghetsis took a stand.

"Y-You thought it was just that easy to beat me now, huh? Well after two defeats, I don't believe I'll be taking anymore!" he told.

 _N_ nor myself had any input, looking to him.

"Now behold, the true power of Gr—!"

Before Ghetsis finished his sentence, a large shape came from the smog that surrounded us. A hammer. It instantly crushed him into the ground, leaving his arms and a leg of his to crookedly point upward in a jaw-grindingly grotesque fashion.

A shape stepped out of the form, one hand held to the lengthy hammer that set itself into the corpse of Ghetsis.

" _Delicious_ ," it said, licking along its sharp teeth.


	4. Strong

**Chapter Four - Strong**

* * *

Stepping forward, it revealed itself from the deep smog that now laid behind it.

Whatever _it_ was, it wore dark-red armor over its entire body, with a lining of black armor under it—and giant, white spikes protruding from various places. . It was _at least_ seven feet high, and . . . staring down between myself and _N_. Its face wasn't human. Almost feral, its head was shaped to that of a blunt dragon, with the top-part of its face overlapping its jaw.

Its void, yellow eyes shone brightly through the blaze of fire and smoke.

". . . It's over," _N_ said as though he was lacking in breath.

Slowly, it began to drag that large hammer forward. The corpse of Ghetsis cracked and shifted as the weight was removed, for it to sturdily drag along the charred ground.

" _Mm . . ."_ it voiced, eyes focused on myself.

I stepped back, before it crushed its hammer into the ground. The momentum of the move caused it to speed forward faster than I could see, giving but a foot of space between it and _N_ in just a moment.

Its hammer spun upward, before crashing down on _N_. All before he could even react—or myself. I receded more-so as _it_ pushed on its hammer to cause his body to snap beneath the pressure.

I stumbled back, watching the creature loom over _N_ with an expression that would be nothing but sadistic.

Slowly, it stopped, before looking to me with a slant in its eyes.

" _You're the only one who's going to fight me, huh?_ "

I was caught without words. All I did was stumble back more-so.

" _Or are you just going to let me kill you?_ "

My stepping stopped, and I stared back at it. Slowly, I reached over to my side and pulled out my sword, before drawing it to hang in my hand—visibly shaking.

" _Good_ ," it said, before lifting up its hammer and letting it clunk against its shoulder. " _No point in killing so many people unless it's fun, right?_ "

Slowly, my sword rose upward, pointing at him.

". . . What are you?" I asked.

" _I'm Groudon, god of all land on this planet._ "

I eyed from him to his weapon—a large great-hammer. Its handle was taller than myself, and the head of it was massive—with a spiked back and a large, squared-off front. Its red color matched its owner's armor, which had a sheen that seemed as though it had been polished recently.

" _And who are you?_ " it asked in return.

"I . . . my name's Daniel," I answered.

" _Daniel? Human name, huh?_ "

". . . Y-yeah. . . ." I looked behind myself and paced somewhat, almost holding a stance.

" _That's weird because you're not human_."

". . . What?"

" _At least part not-human. One of your parents was a legendary Pokémon,_ " it tried to explain.

My stance sort of fell, causing me to look behind myself questionably, before back to it.

"Are you sure about that?"

" _Mhm. . . . A human as strong as yourself wouldn't exist. I would've killed you too if that was otherwise,_ " it told, twisting its foot into the body it stood on.

All I could do was let my eyes shuffle about, looking myself back over—what this _thing_ was calling a half-god—dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

It felt like something I had to be inclined to believe. Not as though it would matter . . . since it didn't change much.

". . . And what's that matter?" I asked.

Its eyes looked away from me, before returning. It took on a wickedly wide grin, which revealed its white teeth.

" _It means our fight is going to be fun_."

I looked to the body he was standing on. _N_ . . . he was definitely dead. And Ghetsis just a few steps back was, too. . . . If I were any smart person, I could decipher that this thing . . . Groudon . . . could kill a lot of people.

 _If I didn't stop him._

 **[Start Song: "Metal Gear Rising OST Soundtrack 'It Has to Be This Way' HD"]**

A squint was followed by a frown as a thought came into my mind—about possibly stopping a technical "god."

But that wasn't how I was raised—to believe in that sort of stuff.

My sword rose to a stance, where I held it in front of myself as a guard.

"Y'know, you're wrong about that 'god' thing. . . ."

" _Hm?_ " it queried.

"There's only one God . . . and it's not that Arceus of yours, either," I told, taking an exhale out. I finally managed to stop shaking.

It eyed at me for a moment, before leaning its head back and nodding—smiling.

" _That's the spirit . . ._ " it spoke.

Raising a hand of its own, the ground began to shake viciously. I was able to stay in my stance, but if felt as though he was summoning up a magnitude-ten earthquake. Distantly, I could hear buildings crumble under the motion—myself definitely sure it was coming from him.

But his actions were without intent to kill—but instead—leaving himself to crouch down in a kind of "getting ready" motion.

A flash of light shot into my eyes, before the scene revealed itself to be as it was prior. Standing upright was that thing—Groudon—staring at me as wind instantly kicked up. Embers and smoke seemed to fly out in every direction, leaving me to raise a hand and hold it upward in protecting my eyes from the wind.

" _Are you ready, Daniel?_ " Groudon asked—his hammer still held on his shoulder.

"I am," was my short answer.

" _Then fight for your life, and the lives of your friends! Or die trying! I want it all from you!_ " it shouted, taking its other hand and bringing down its hammer.

By the end of his yelling, I found myself in front of him—having run over the distance—before immediately taking a swing in at his midsection. Swiftly—as though his weapon had no weight—he pushed my attack up, before using his spinning momentum to swing at my side.

I ducked myself under it, before thrusting my sword upward at his stomach. The bar of his handle twisted my arm around from doing so, before he brought it up into the air and downward at me. I flipped myself over his shoulder, before taking a direct cut at his back. His armor not only took all of it, but my sword only made a small scratch, before he turned around and swung at my feet.

My foot matched the head of his hammer, before I jumped over it and aimed my sword at his face. He quickly moved himself over, evading all but a small cut on his face. His hammer twirled in between his fingers, before smashing down on where I had been—still passing to land.

I shifted my weight around his swing, landing with a hand on the ground, before digging my foot into the ground and pushing myself forward at him. I managed to get a stab in along the shoulder-part of his armor—again, making no progress into it—before turning myself around and slashing into the belt-part of his suit. My sword flawlessly danced in my hands, spinning for momentum before I turned around and took another cut at his back—moving along with him as he kicked his legs out and brought out another swing at me from down-up.

A sidestep left me just inches away from the swing, before he quickly changed momentum and made a horizontal swing. I took another duck under that, before he brought the weapon in and made a jabbing motion with it.

Twisting with my wrist, I slashed upward on the chest-part of his armor, before making two rapid slashes in the same direction. He returned with another smash at the ground, spinning his body to give the attack more speed. I jumped out of its direction, but he continued to spin his body like a side-ways top—bringing his hammer downward again.

I jumped back to gain more distance, before he brought his hammer into the ground again, then looked at me. He stomped one leg forward, before out-reaching with his weapon as another swing. A crouch allowed me to get under it, before my low stance let me walk forward and pounce toward him.

Directly aimed for his stomach, I harshly stabbed into the platemail he wore. My sword rebounded off, but I took another swing at his hip, managing to make a deeper cut into his side—actually hitting something. He tried to make a swing at me, but I slid over to his opposite side, comboing two slashes together—now managing to break through whatever sturdy defense his armor had. Finishing off my movement, I twirled my weapon into a downward movement, cutting down the length of his back.

His closest leg to me kicked at me in a straight direction, but I moved out of its way, having his heel to land on my shoulder. I made an outward-facing slash as I prepared my sword, before stabbing forward and just past his leg.

My stabbing motion gave me space to move back as I slid to a stop, before looking back to that Groudon.

He had been heavily breathing, with steam simmering off the few cuts I managed to get in on him.

Quickly, his head jut up—along with his hammer—before he leapt forward at me. All before I could get past it, his hammer connected with my chest, launching me forward at least ten or so feet.

As I hit the ground, I tumbled sideways a good few times, before managing to roll up to a stand. But just as soon as I had recovered, he was there once more, catching my feet with the bar of his hammer and tripping me over. All while I was in mid-air, he reached his hammer backward, before slamming it down right into my stomach.

I hit the ground hard, feeling my ribs practically crunch under the pressure, before Groudon's foot came around and kicked me up off the ground away from where I was.

Barely, I managed to land on my feet, placing a hand on the ground and coughing up blood. I faltered some in kneeling down, but managed to pick myself up and get to standing.

Yet again, he was right there with me, bringing his hammer around to slam into my left arm. I felt a crack in that area, before he continued and swung at my hip, knocking me to the side. And at that, I saw him about to take another swing right down onto my head. I kicked my leg off against the ground, managing to get myself up before he would land.

I jumped out of range from him, taking my eyes off to look at my arm. It was crooked, and definitely broken. I fell somewhat with a shout in pain, then tried to regain a stance. My attention snagged onto him, leaving a moment's pass of time, before I took my sword and charged him.

Using my one arm, I swiped downward at him. He blocked it off with an upward block, but I twisted my arm around and swung from the side-up on him, catching his stomach again. The end-part of his hammer came to hit me in the jaw, before he spun himself around to swing the head into me.

I blocked it off with my sword, being dragged backward a couple feet. Heaving with tiredness in my eyes, I fell to the ground, my non-broken arm supporting my weight and holding my sword at the same time.

 _I couldn't lose to this guy._

It was visible that I was running out of fuel—from the pain and sheer exhaustion of the fight. He saw it, bringing his hammer up to an open position—hanging on his shoulder.

My fist banged into the ground as I made pained noises, struggling to stay up. I didn't want to lose. Not only would I die, but the rest of my town would follow with me.

 _And I wouldn't lose to this guy._

Instantaneously, my head picked up to look at him, before I forced myself forward at him.

As I swung ahead, he brought his weapon to block my attack. But again, I swung, just to be blocked yet another time. Another swing followed, picking up much faster than the prior two. This one caused him to stumble, before I turned around and made a wide-arc in my next attack. His attempt to block was stopped, as he staggered back from the sheer force of my sudden attacks.

With his given opening, I dove downward, cutting past his leg—deeply. I spun upward, and slashed way up his back, before following a pulled-back cut against his shoulder. All without embedding my sword too deep, I moved myself through the wide arc beneath his legs, before cutting up his chest and into his chin.

My attacks had left him staggered, and with the opening available, I charged in with my sword aimed as it had been before. Accompanied by this was a wild shout, before I buried my sword into the side-part of his stomach. This time, I had made a cut much deeper than any other—making it far past his armor.

In a roar of pain, his free hand grabbed me by shoulder, before throwing me off of him. I tumbled just once, before skidding to a stop and standing up.

There I found him, down on one knee, clenching his side. The cut I made was definitely going to be enough to decide the rest of the fight—despite my own condition.

"Is that all you have?" I asked, daring to prod at his ability.

His head quickly came up, before he grit his teeth together.

" _Not at all, you half-breed,_ " he managed, before standing up. He took on a pose with his hammer, but only held it in both hands—not in defense or attack. The wind stopped kicking around in random directions for a second, before seeming to suck inward towards where he was standing. I leaned myself back against the howling wind, trying not to get dragged into the direction.

In a flash of light—much more long-lasting than the prior—a shining sound cut through the surroundings before revealing Groudon's newer figure.

Although not much different, the black markings on his skin and armor were now glowing a white, hot orange, which included his eyes.

" _Now it gets interesting!_ " he shouted, before rushing back at me.

His hammer came at me head-first, but I intercepted it with my sword, causing it to redirect upwards and away from myself. I stabbed in at him, but he swung my attack out of the way, now trying to slam into the ground that I stood on.

I shifted far out of the way, now on his side and taking at another cut. His weapon's bar blocked out my attack, before swinging down to my shoulder. I stepped out of its path, allowing me to cut into his side. But just as quickly, he embedded his hammer into my shoulder, pushing me back bluntly.

As he swung another time, I followed the same direction with my sword, parrying his attack off, before he would bring down into another direction. I did the same yet again, before following the similar motion a few times.

Finally, his hammer made it past my sword, knocking my arm up, before slamming into my chest and causing me to fall back. But I stayed on my feet in a rush of adrenaline.

He was yet again open, panting more-so than he was before. So, I followed in with a slash wide across his side. With a clean cut through, I followed through at his calf, before back upward across his back. I used my foot to catch myself at his neck, before slashing downward into his chest. I hit the ground with a thump as I fell off him, before rolling back up to stand.

Weary, he stood still and faltered, before dragging forward and swinging around his hammer. Much slower than before, I moved out of its way, before swinging downward at his head. He managed to bring his hammer up to block it. Again, I swung, trying to break down his guard to get the one vulnerable place possible.

Another swing, and a slice sounded through the air, before Groudon's arms parted with one piece of his hammer in each—my swinging having managed to break it apart.

Seeing this, I cocked my arm back, before running toward him.

" _ **DIIIE!**_ " I shouted.

 **[END SONG]**

My sword embedded into his chest, piercing all the way through both ends of his armor. As if on a similar queue, the thick smog of soot and embers blew away in a wave, instantly revealing a cloudless sky above. The fires nearby turned extinguished, and Groudon collapsed to his knees—with my sword still in him.

I stumbled backward, taking hands off my weapon and standing in a bent posture. Looking at him, his eyes had ceased to glow, and it looked as though he had turned dormant.

" _. . . Even with my Omega, you beat me,_ " he muttered, mouth barely moving.

Devoid of an answer, I tiredly stared at him—my face half-covered in blood.

" _. . . You're pretty strong, kid. It was fun. . . ._ "

Quietly, he laughed some.

" _. . . I'm . . . I'm not going to be the last legendary to come down here, though. . . . Many more are coming. . . . Too many for you to handle._ "

I hefted a breath, not replying as I moved my free hand to my broken arm.

" _. . . Nice fight._ "

Just as he last spoke, his body began to partially break off and turn to ash. But with no wind nearby, all it did was fall to the ground, before burning up. I watched this unfold, heaving in my breaths.

Eventually, it looked as though he was completely gone.

At that, my vision blurred, before I fell back and blacked out.

* * *

For the song linked to the chapter, you'll find it in the middle of there where it really starts to go. Listen to that if you want that extra feeling or whatever~. Can't link it, though, so just look it up.


	5. Aqua

**Chapter Five - Aqua**

* * *

I jumped a bit as soon as I woke up.

My body was laid down—probably in a bed. Everything was too blurred to really see about, but I still sat myself up. I leaned onto my left arm subconsciously, looking about with a squint as I tried to make out the scene.

Time took a hold of itself and eventually allowed me to recognize that I was in my own room. I frowned with a disoriented look, kicking my feet outward—off the bed—and onto the floor.

Attention then fell to my arm. Left one in particular. I brought it up into view and wriggled my fingers up and down some, tilting my head. It was fine.

A creak sounded from behind my bed, causing me to look around to where my balcony door was.

Standing right there was a figure—feminine at the very least—in a long, black dress that reached from torso to foot.

Her wide, red eyes looked to me—acknowledged me—before turning around and stepping out to my balcony. I jumped right out of my bed and ran out, stopping outside on the smooth wood that made up my patio. Just like that, she was out of sight—and as I looked from each side to the ground, she was gone. Not to mention that there were plenty of people roaming about.

Stepping back, I oddly looked about my apartment. For an understatement, I was confused. She seemed familiar, but . . . something else was off.

I was just about naked except for the red boxers I had on—loosely hanging to my form. I put my feet back into the carpet and closed the patio door—going to my bathroom.

That girl was probably the least of my concerns. I had nothing to steal except for my sword—which was neatly leaned up on my dresser. Unless she was trying to kill me . . . which I doubt, because she had a very distinct . . . "smile," I'd call it. Couldn't really tell to be honest, however.

Aside from that, my arm hadn't been broken. From that fight with . . . Groudon. And . . . _Huh_.

Albeit hard to believe, I was starting to fall under the impression that whatever happened was a dream. I mean, it wasn't _too_ hard to believe . . . but damn, that would be a quite vivid dream. Yet, so surreal.

It had that same, lasting effect that any other dream gave to me—ones where I thought everything was real.

Plus, I was in my room. Everything was normal. Definitely enough evidence to prove that what happened didn't really happen.

All this food for thought was taken internally, while externally . . . it was as though I was just getting ready for another day. In the bathroom, I began to brush my teeth and prepare a shower—as any other day would go.

Speaking of food, though—good gosh—I felt damn _starving_.

Nothing I wouldn't fix later, of course. After I finished thinking over my dream. Or . . . about that girl who broke and entered through my home—then disappeared.

Yeah, the weirder of the two things. Why was she in my home?

She obviously didn't steal anything. She didn't kill me. She just . . . up and left?

Optimistically, I might think of it as an actual encounter with one of those lore-ridden Pokémon around here—the ones specific to the region. And that could make sense. A lot more than other ideas.

Maybe I was being spied on? . . . Who cares, really. There wasn't really anything private I did.

Heaving my head forward, I spit out a glob of toothpaste into the sink, before running the water. I reached to the towel I kept nearby and wiped over my mouth, before stepping back in a stretch. Following, I ran the water for my shower.

You could call it foolishness for brushing off breaking-and-entering so easily, but I honestly felt too tired to care. Even though I slept like a brick—all the way to eleven thirty in the morning—I had that morning-tired sort of thing where you don't really want to do anything.

It was one shower later—and in the middle of myself getting dressed that I heard a knock at my door. Maybe that lady was trying to come in legitimately? Maybe my only friend whom of which always bothers me? Maybe—Maybe.

I pulled up my pants and fastened them with a belt—walking down my apartment stairs without a sweatshirt like I usually wore.

Open the door and surprise: it actually was my friend.

This was different than usual, however. He had two people with him—standing behind. With synergy, the two background-esque people had similar-matching blues in their clothes. One was female-fit to the person, with a simple and reserved button-down suit of blue—which had golden pins for buttons. Her hair was dyed a shiny blue—as though that woman adored blue.

The other, however, was a burly man with a pointy beard that poked out in three different directions—and was also straight-cut. The bandana on his head was a light-blue, accompanied by a white symbol that looked like the letter "A" with a circle in the middle of it. His skin-tight costume was blue, with a cape-like form coming off his waist. That large, anchor-formed necklace of his was definitely an expensive gold—I could feel it. He still probably got odd looks when coming over here, though.

In the front of them both was my friend, Barry. Blond hair, orange eyes, and darker skin than me. Wore a green scarf around his scrawny neck, and an orange-to-white striped shirt with a popped-up collar. Wore gray khakis all around and kept a brown "purse" thing with him. Not to mention that hipster watch of his.

Hyperactive kid, no joke.

"Hey, Daniel! Have fun sleeping?" Barry loudly questioned.

"Uh—"

"That's not really important, anywho! Mind if we come in?"

". . . I guess?"

Without even hinting to hesitation, he grabbed my arm and pulled me up stairs. Courteously, one of the two background people closed the door behind—which I was sort of worried about. Otherwise, Barry quickly brought me around to sit myself on my bed, before quickly seating himself in the middle of my couch. Alongside, the two others sat on opposite sides.

"So before you start asking questions, let me introduce you to my pals!" he told, before motioning to the one on his left—the male one. "This guy is Archie, the leader of Team Aqua."

"Oh, I know a bit ab—"

"AND . . ." he cut in, quieting me and looking over to the lady on his right, "this lady is Nero—Archie's accomplis."

I dropped my head and shot a look at him, waiting some time to speak.

". . . Okay . . . uh, hi?" I greeted with tangible confusion.

Moving upward on his seat, "Archie" set his eyes to me—while leaning his elbows onto his knees.

"So you're Daniel, right? The one they found in the middle of Team Plasma's operating grounds?" he asked.

My eyes took a sharp, wide opening at the mention.

". . . Pardon?" I asked—instinctively, without thought.

He mentioned Team Plasma . . . and he mentioned that they found me there. Where . . . their main-thing happened.

"Are you not the man who apparently stopped Team Plasma's operation?"

I nodded, answering with, "W-Well . . . yeah . . . but. . . ."

"But what?"

"I thought that entire thing was a dream, honestly. Up until you mentioned it back up. . . ."

He frowned and shifted in his seat, asking, "You thought it was a dream, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Well, did you also know that this all happened five days ago, right?"

". . . Really?"

"Yes. . . . After you were confirmed to be all right, you were discharged from the hospital. Report says a family member came and picked you up from there."

My brows furrowed downward and my head tilted away, eyes intensely staring.

". . . Are you sure about that?"

"That's what the report says."

". . . That's . . . that can't be true. I don't have any immediate family—not around here or anywhere. . . ."

Brushing it off, he shrugged, sitting back up on my couch.

"Either way, you're here now. And if we can confirm the claims of what the remaining Team Plasma members said . . . is it true that you defeated the legendary Pokémon, Groudon?"

Lost in this mess of confusion, I scooched back on my bed and looked to my window—wide-eyed. I took a hefty sigh, devoid of any words to say or any answers to give.

". . . Is it?" he asked again.

"Yeah . . . I guess."

He took a hand to his beard and lined it up along, taking interest as he'd shortly call, "Interesting. . . ."

Everything felt derailed—my normal day was definitely gone, at the very least.

"Yeah, I . . . I like that," he said, bringing my attention back to him.

One look over my face, and he himself took a pondering look at me.

"Don't mind myself, Mister Lupo, but you look a bit off-put?" he asked with question in his voice.

"Yeah. . . . I just . . . a lot of stuff happened that day. A lot of people died, but I'm not upset about that all so much. It just all feels so . . . surreal. I mean, that Groudon guy . . . he did tell me I wasn't even human."

Archie leaned in, keeping that same question in his eyes.

"Really? How so?" he would ask.

". . . I'm apparently half-Pokémon . . . one of the legendaries, from how he described it."

"Do you know which one?"

"Not at all."

He laughed a bit, leaning back some.

"Don't feel so bad about that, kid . . . Nero here's got the same thing as you."

I frowned, tilting about.

"Really?"

"Mhm. . . . She's the descendant of the legendary Pokémon Suicune. Got special powers from that whole thing, too."

". . . Faster than the normal person, right?"

"Not just that, but she's got some magic stuff behind it, too. Able to use certain moves that only Pokémon would be able to do."

Looking to her, she kept silent—giving just a nod—which prompted me to slump into place and sigh.

"But my problem here, y'see . . . is that you took on an actual legendary Pokémon. Being only half legendary, that would mean you'd have to be a son of the more powerful ones—and that's really only limited to one: Arceus."

"There's no way."

"It's been written along history before. Even the Alpha Pokémon itself has brought itself to mingle with humankind. Arceus . . . the most powerful Pokémon to ever exist. . . . It would make sense that such is why you were able to do what you did. Otherwise, you could be something that's completely non-human . . . perhaps 100% Pokémon, but stuck in a human form," he rambled.

My expression brought along an uncomfortable look, my eyes looking down.

"Is there something wrong with that?"

". . . I'm just a normal person living the life here . . . I don't feel like getting pulled into this whole thing . . . where I'm some kind of demi-god or whatever history wants to call it. . . ."

"No point in living a life if you're not a live, however."

His statement brought along my attention, causing me to lean up and ask, "What do you mean by that?"

Reaching behind himself, he wriggled his hands about some. From right out of a pocket of his belt, he pulled out a paper. It was clean-folded, before he unraveled it and held out his hand toward me. I took on it, before looking over it. It had numerous lines of symbols on it—looking as though it was taken directly from a photocopying machine.

"That right there is a script describing the destruction that was supposed to happen ten years ago—when that man stopped Yveltal from killing all biological life on our planet." He grunted, before standing himself up and moving to sit next to me on the edge of the bed. His finger pointed to the first few lines of symbols. "These statements told that the Destruction Pokémon would come down onto the planet and exterminate all living life with a plague. It talks more of how this plague would be delivered—when and how. But down here—" he moved his hand downward "—that is where it describes its future plans. . . . If Yveltal were to be defeated—by miracle—then the peaceful times would not last long. In a certain amount of years' due-time—let's say ten—Yveltal would come down once more and attempt to eradicate life once more. It then talks of how this process would be repeated until success. . . ."

He stood up and moved himself right back onto my couch, having all of my attention.

"Now we're not sure exactly when this will happen . . . but with the rise of Groudon—without the interference of Team Magma—we believe this might be a warning to this event occurring soon."

"He did tell me that more were coming. . . ."

"And that just confirms it—more than we already knew."

". . . So what's this got to do with me?"

"Everything, Daniel. We . . . we haven't been able to find that man from ten years ago. It's doubtful that he died, but . . . our efforts were unsuccessful in finding him. But instead, we have found you. You've fought off the full power of a legendary, and you probably aren't at the extent of your power! . . . There's so much to do with you, you don't even know. . . . So we need you, Daniel. We need you to help us stop Yveltal again—just like that great man did ten years ago. . . ."

As he pushed his statement forward, my expression was more off-putting and I looked to my side in thought.

Seeing this, he stood up and got onto one of his knees—on the floor—before taking his cap off and holding it to his chest.

"Listen to me, Daniel . . . I've . . . I've done a lot of bad things in my life. Stolen, hurt, manipulated . . . there's a lot that I've done. It was all for a passion, though. I always told myself: 'This is for the greater good; I'm only doing this for the greater good' . . . and maybe I was wrong. My passion is still the same, but I can't just plow through everyone else's lives . . . against their will. That's not my right. But I can't fix what I've done in the past—and I possibly can't compensate for it, either. . . . If there's anything good I'm gonna' do, though . . . it's gonna' be to stop my planet from getting destroyed—and all the water along with it. I want people and Pokémon to be able to live together in harmony, not just die off because a few Pokémon decided so. . . . I need to make up for what I've done—or at least try, Daniel. You're the only way I can do that. Please . . . help me . . . and not just me, but the world. Your neighbors, your friends, your family. . . ."

My eyes fell from looking off to him—at his mention of 'family.' I took a slow blink with all thought being processed together. Slowly, I followed in with a sigh, before standing up.

"I'll do it," was my short answer.

Quickly, he brought himself up to a stand, affixing his hat back to normal. He was only a few inches taller than me—it felt easy to talk to him.

"I—I know it's a lot to hear, but this is the world we're talking about!" he stressed.

"Yeah, I know. . . . I said I'll do it."

His expression shifting into a wide, happy grin, he slowly nodded and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"O—Okay! Good! Great! . . . Here, let's . . . let's go, then! We don't have any time to waste!" he shouted, pushing me towards the stairs of my apartment.

Along the way, I reached to my dresser and grabbed my sweatshirt, keeping it in hand as I was forced down and down—all ready to go on some kind of adventure to stop the world from dying. . . .

Pretty crazy day, I guess.


	6. The Vast, White

**Chapter Six - The Vast, White**

* * *

"Jeez, Daniel, you've been hiding a lot, huh?"

That Barry talking, for a forenote.

Pulling my sweatshirt overhead and onto my body, I wriggled out my arms to get in place, before answering back, "I didn't find any of this stuff out until a few days ago."

I felt him nudge into my side, causing me to curl in that direction and move away some.

"Well, good thing! The island would've probably been destroyed if you didn't stop that guy, y'know?"

". . . Yes, I know."

"And that includes where we're going, too! My place. The place that Team Aqua placed their place at. The place of Team Aqua. Pl—"

"Shut up," a feminine voice commanded. Pulling down my shirt fully, I looked to find that it was actually the Nero person. Very serious in tone, as I could tell. Could be why she didn't talk that much.

Looking around, the four of ourselves were caught up in the crowd of passersby—"shoobies," the term I'd fondly refer to them with.

Over bridges and around corners, the group would just go—myself following behind Archie and Nero.

"As Barry said . . . we're going to the Team Aqua hideout. I mean, there are a few—back in the mainland of Hoenn—but we also have one here. This island's very important, believe it or not," Archie explained, keeping his head slightly turned back towards me.

Leaning ahead for better hearing, I asked, "Does it have to do with that machine in the big museum?"

"Yes, it does, actually. Odd you know that, but . . . yes, that's right. It's supposedly able to manipulate our very realities and bend the properties of physics to extents that shouldn't be possible."

". . . Why is it just in the open like that?"

"I would suggest having it destroyed, but . . . y'know, historical purposes. . . . Plus, you need a special set of legendary Pokémon to do that. You must know about the local legends—Latias and Latios—I'd assume."

". . . Yeah, of course . . ." I dragged, bringing myself into thought.

Thinking about that girl from earlier—I definitely was now. Not trying to draw conclusions here, but that could've been something along those lines.

I was apparently pulled out of a hospital in time after someone took me out of there. I had no recollection of any days prior—and as soon as I wake up, there's just some girl right there. Latias should probably look like a Pokémon, but it's not as if Groudon looked like one either. Groudon's supposed to be this big, Godzilla-like creature . . . not a humanoid-shaped monster.

Looking up, I held a confused expression on my face, asking, "Hey, Archie, how much do you know about Latias?"

"Just what they teach you in the books—plus some personal stuff from some other people. Red and white, understand human speech, and can turn invisible."

My eyes trailed to my feet.

"Not to just assume stuff here, but when I woke up from sleeping . . . there was some girl in my room. Dressed kinda' odd—didn't steal anything . . . just disappeared out of nowhere."

"Thinking Latias was watching you or something?"

"And on top of that . . . you said I was taken out of the hospital by a family member. I don't have any family around—not alive or that I know of."

"That definitely could've been her, then."

All the way up to a twenty minute walk, Archie and Nero stopped, standing in front of a basic-looking, red brick building. It was square and large, however, and took up the entire block. I hadn't seen it around before.

"Sounds like it was Latias to me—the way you're describing it," he finished, bringing his hands to rest onto each side of his hips. "But anyways . . . here we are . . . Team Aqua HQ. Nicely sized, you think?"

"It's pretty big, yeah. . . ."

Moving on forward, his hands pressed to a set of two doors—directly next to each other—which then opened up in opposite directions to reveal a large, open inside. I followed behind all three of the others, walking in and finding that the bricks were more of a wall, rather than of a home.

Far off, there was an office-like enclosure attached to a far-end—connected to the entire building. In the middle, there was a long, wide slab of land that had concrete at the foot of it. And around the rest of the scene were paths of stone, seeming to float in this giant, large pool that surrounded everything but the outer brim of grass in the building. The place looked lively, as various types of shark-looking Pokémon and other various types of fish-looking Pokémon populated the area.

Without hesitation, Archie began to walk over the path of stones—which were obviously connected to the ground—and begin making his way towards the middle.

"You can easily tell that we like water here—right?"

Managing behind Archie, Barry, and Nero, I stumbled onto one of the rocks, before following behind at a steady pace.

"Yeah, I got that from 'Team Aqua'."

"It's a staple in my lifestyle—I've always loved Water-Type Pokémon. At one point, I wanted the entire world to be water . . . but that wouldn't be fair, right? . . . Yeah, ha . . . dumb idea, I think."

Without many more words, the four of us found ourselves right in the middle of that stone platform. It looked like . . . it was held for events or something. I'm not too sure.

"Usually, we use this spot for battling Pokémon," he began.

Or that—too.

"But we're gonna' be trying something different, now. I mean, are you a Pokémon trainer?"

"Not by any extent."

"Yeah, I figured as much . . . but you yourself fight. . . . I want to see how strong you are."

"I'm okay."

"You're more than that! You took on my prior nemesis . . . the legend that I hated so fiercely . . . and all by yourself—with a sword! I want to see just how strong you yourself are, Daniel. . . ."

"Am I fighting you?"

"God, no! That would be suicide . . . but I think Nero would make a much more even match to you—figuring you're both on the same boat, right?"

She took a casual step up to the both of our sides, looking from him to myself.

"Yeah, that'd be fair, I guess," I spoke.

"All right! Let myself and Barry get back, and then you two can start. . . . Rules are this: first one to draw blood—please, don't kill each other."

Quickly, he grabbed Barry by the shoulder and dragged him out to the brim of the area. Nero then pushed an object into my chest, my arms coming up to cradle it instinctively before I looked down.

It was my sword. Must've left it back at the house when I was rushed out. Quickly, I looped the metal part of the sheath to my side, before adjusting it some to make it comfy.

Looking back up, the woman was already at the opposite side of the area from me. On her body, however, I didn't see a weapon. Or maybe she had a concealed one.

"All right! Whenever you two are ready, have at it!" Archie shouted from a distance.

I looked to him, before looking back to her.

Kneeling down to the water, she pulled her hands up from it, before turning around and looking to myself. Defying gravity, two massive blobs of water surrounded each of her hands—hands now balled up into fists. She moved her arms further away from her body—spanning side to side—before the blobs of water formed into a three-point piece on each side. With a curve similar to claws, each hand seemed to hold a form-retaining shape of three claws—and being incredibly large at that.

Following suit, each ounce of water froze into ice—clear and smooth as all could be. In a feel for the massive forms, Nero was able to move her alleged weapons with complete ease—looking just about weightless.

Must've been that magic stuff Archie talked about.

She then looked at me, before taking her steps forward. She allowed her claws to lightly drag along the ground behind her, it not breaking and actually keeping the same exact sharpness as before. Following, I started walking forward—sword kept undrawn and in its comfy sheath.

I figured that's where the fight began, as she took a sudden decision to leap forward at me. Her expression was completely emotionless—oddly enough. Maybe even serious.

Her first attack was a swipe aimed directly for my right side. Her ice-formed claws were so massive, however, that they allowed me to make a short hop to the side and move through the space between one claw and another.

But she followed up with her dominant hand, crashing it down where I was. It didn't take much more to step backwards and barely be missed by the attack. But she was much faster than any other normal person—immediately recovering to take a rapid chain of three swipes, all in different directions. They were angled for mobility reasons, which allowed me to move my body from side to side and barely dodge each to every single attack. Following, I found myself in touching distance from her.

There wasn't enough room for me to draw my sword, however, which prompted an odd look from her to myself, before diving her body down onto one shoulder and break-dance spinning quickly. A flurry of cuts made their way all around the area, myself ducking my head and arching my body around the edges of each attack while getting decently away.

Moving back to a stand, her foot kicked into the ground to halt her momentum, before she leapt forward another time—claws aimed in stabbing positions toward myself. In this time, I took a moment to draw my sword, before aiming it in a swinging fashion.

The edge of my blade flew up along her cheek as I stood myself up, having slid under her attack and right up to the woman—with my back up against her chest. My arm held up highly as I kept my sword in place, before she let her claws collapse to the ground—giving me space.

I stepped back out of her zone, before clunking my sword back into its position.

Her face wasn't of shock—just serious and stern, like what I had done was normal. She looked down to her cut with her eyes, letting her numerous blades of ice melt and sink into the solid ground beneath. She let out a long exhale as she returned to a firm stance, hands delved into the pockets of her suit.

"O—Over already?" Archie asked, scurrying back to where we stood.

". . . Yes," Nero said—all with slight reluctance.

"There's no way you won that fast," Barry cut in.

"He wasn't serious at all, either . . . I was a toy to him."

With Nero's eyes set on me, Barry and Archie slowly brought a bewildered and unbelieving expression into my direction—looking right at me.

". . . What else aren't you telling us . . . Daniel?" Archie slowly came to ask, frowning with his question.

I was lacking in answers, bringing up to just shrug.

"Ah, that's just like his mom! Arceus damn it!" I heard from behind.

Turning around—and most likely everyone else looking to the source of the speaking—I would find an incredibly tall, skinny man standing behind.

Long hair of white, crystal blue eyes surrounded by black, and a lightly pale complexion . . . which matched up to the long, white trench coat he wore . . . which had ruffles throughout its brims—like it was made of feathers. And along his belt, boots, and elbow-length gloves lied neutral-gray, filling the color for the metal that seemed to elegantly clunk with each movement he took.

I got an alarmingly odd feeling from this guy.

Looming what had to be two or so feet over myself, he leaned in and looked over me with a smile—an embracive and happy smile, for what it was worth.

"Mhm . . . I can even see it in your eyes!" he aimlessly spoke.

". . . Pardon?" I managed.

"Hey, Daniel! First time meeting you around! I'm—technically—your uncle," he told in a greeting, speaking all upbeat as he reached over a lengthy arm. He wanted me to shake on it.

And so I did, shaking uneasily as I looked to him.

". . . What?" I continued to ask.

Unnoticed by myself, Nero and the rest had affirmed their place a couple steps back—staring in sheer awe.

"Y'know? . . . Your mother's brother?"

"M— . . . I don't remember you," I stuttered, before recollecting into a statement.

"I mean, I wouldn't think so . . . I did have a lot of other stuff to attend to," he reasoned, bringing a hand up to his chin.

I stepped back some—from him being somewhat too close—before leaning a hand onto my back.

"So, uh . . . who exactly are you?"

"You can't tell, huh? You must have some poor senses there, buddo," he spoke—possibly teasing, but I couldn't tell.

He smiled, before leaning to his side a bit—to a long metal pole, which shared a similar color to the metal along his dressed up coat. On one end of it was a large, round-looking thing that had holes scattered around it—like an engine; and to the other end was a pointed tip of white color, like that of a spear.

"I'm Reshiram!"

Only another one of the legendary Pokémon from high-heaven above.

". . . Oh."

"Quite the reaction, aheh . . . but anyways, I'm here to bring you a message!"

"What's the message?"

"Well, it's from your mom," he spoke.

My expression turned from blank and lost to focused real quick.

". . . Mom?"

"Mhm, it sure is."

". . . What she say?"

 **[Start Song: "Fox Stevenson - Lightspeed"]**

He lightheartedly laughed a bit, before taking a step around me and walking towards the group consisting of Nero, Archie, and Barry.

"You guys should probably make some space for us—please?" he asked, but in a commanding tone.

They were visibly shaken by him, scurrying away to the same side of the area—and just a bit away.

"So you want to know what the message says, hm?" he asked, half-shouting.

"Y—Yes!" I replied.

"Well, here . . . how about this?" Following his statement, he spun his spear around in his hand—with incredible ease—before letting it clunk into the both of his hands, holding a downward-pointing stance.

"You beat me in a small sparring match, and I tell you what it is," he told, a heavy smirk held on his face.

With as little hesitation as I could muster, I drew out my sword and took a steady stance. He began to slowly sidestep in a clockwise direction, to which I mimicked, keeping a consistent distance from him.

"That sound fair?"

"As long as you're not lying to me, then it does."

He grinned widely—innocently, of course.

"All right! No killing, though!" he added.

I was fine with that—all the way.

Continuously, the both of us continued to move around in a circular fashion, slowly and as though to stall.

My stance adjusted and I was ready to fight. He continued to keep his stance still, refusing to project any next movements whatsoever. With so much distance between us, I wasn't all too worried.

I guess I was about to fight another legendary, but that was okay.

Just as long as he wasn't lying to me about that message.

With a burst of fire behind himself, it looked as though he had glided all the way over to where I stood, taking a lancing cut directly towards where I stood.

I twisted my sword downward to intercept the tip of his weapon, deflecting the blow right to the side. But his arm shifted, and so did his spear, working right towards my other side. I brought my elbows above my head and sword around my back, halting the next attack right there. He shifted his stance to a sideways sort of stance, bringing the weapon to be aimed right into my head.

A cut upward was taken by myself, glancing the attack into another direction. But just as soon as I had done such, he had been stabbing towards my hip. I dove my blade right at the weapon, parrying once more. Following, a simultaneous flurry of five or so attacks came in from each a different direction. Matching these, I threw arms to all different sides, switching up my stance in the few seconds I was given, before sidestepping to the last strike.

With my elbows now tucked, I stepped forward and plunged my sword toward his abdomen. A strong strike was made to match my stab, kicking my weapon and arms up into the air. I hid my opening quickly with changing into a one-handed form, sliding myself forward to bring the edge of my blade into him. My slash was met with a metal bar, but I continued forward into another cut from above.

Using the actual point of his weapon itself, he riposted my movement, leading me to attack from another direction. At blocking the next, I came on with another, and another almost instantaneously, both at opposite sides of his torso. He hadn't bothered to dodge whatsoever, swiftly moving his weapon to contact and push off the cuts and slices I would take.

He hadn't moved an inch from my attacks, which I had to change. Had to do better—somehow.

In retaliation, his spear shot upward toward my head. I hooked my neck to the side and allowed the weapon to just barely miss myself, before lowly diving downward and taking a knee-bent slash across his legs. This missed, himself jumping a small amount to allow my weapon to pass under. With my back open right there, he brought his spear down right to where my head would be. I matched this with the broad side of my sword, allowing it to fall down right next to me—both hands barred right next to me face.

Spinning about widely, I pushed him up off of where I stood for a few feet. The spear showed for much more range as he extended a single arm forward to bring the weapon into me. From dodging to the side, I brought my left arm over and under the weapon, curling down on it and hugging the pole-part of it to my side. Sliding forward, I slashed vertically onto him, causing him to release his weapon and move himself to behind me.

I quickly fired my sword back into its sheath, before swinging around the polearm into his direction, just for him to duck under the sweeping attack. Keeping momentum, I spun it around at my right before allowing it to fall into my second hand and stab forward in a direct manner. He moved to the side, before bringing his hands up onto my wrists and yanking, causing me to let go of the spear—and for it to gain airtime with spinning.

In this quick moment, I pulled my wrist back to unsheath my sword, using one motion to swing right at him. He caught the spear during its spin, directly blocking my attack right in the middle. He tilted his weapon all the way around, catching my sword to be on the opposite end of where it had been, leaving him the ability to turn around and jam his spear right into my side.

Around his weapon came, forcing me to bring my back and line it close to his stomach. I let my sword settle in my hand for a moment, before turning myself around and making an upward cut. Without a block to it, he moved his head back from the arch and stepped away from me a couple paces.

With his attacks taking a break, I rested into a defensive form, eyeing him closely.

"For Arceus' sake, you're . . . you're unbelievably fast," he told, hefting a single breath.

"Using a spear like that—it's pretty good," I returned.

He laughed some, leaning a bit onto his hip.

"Talking that way about a deity that's been alive for thousands of years, huh?"

"As I said to Groudon . . . there's only one real God, and it's not Arceus," I told, lightly smirking under my near-tired face.

He took on a silly frown, before bringing up the tip of his weapon and aiming towards myself.

"I'll have to check up on you with that after this, Danny."

He sure would.

Taking a single step forward, I found myself within distance of him. Following my step was a wide strike, which was met by the bar of his weapon. My weapon recoiled off, and he was met with a surprised expression as he stumbled back quite a bit.

Unfinished to my attacks, I jut my weapon to his side at a speed faster than either of us had before. He managed to match his weapon to mine, ringing a large crash of metal as my weapon bounced yet again. My expression was widely eyeing to him, teeth grit as I brought down another attack vertical to where he stood.

Lacking ability to parry another attack, he shuffled himself out of the way, only to be met with a followed-up strike to his side. He hugged that spear to his side, effectively stopping my blade from driving into his body. My combination continued from there, as I made a quick slice at his ankle, able to catch a single cut through the light armor he wore. My weapon dragged up along his leg and to his torso, but was stopped mid-way by his spear.

He spun my sword right out of my hand from there, before charging his weapon upward towards my neck. Disregarding the lack of a sword, I used my wrist and lifted the attack upward—causing it to miss. Reversing my grip around, I took hold of the weapon, before spinning it about and glancing a cut on his arm. I locked my elbow back following this, following a stab right at him.

My attack all but missed, cutting widely across his chest—through his armor and into his skin. Hastily, he grabbed the end-part of his weapon, to which I let go of it, letting him have it as I looked to my sword—lying on the ground a bit away.

Feet kicked against the hard ground and I found myself handling that sword once more, before meeting it to a fast attack right on where I was. His spear swung back and around, matching to my sword again, and then again. It took not much more than a flick of my weapon upward to interrupt his attacks, giving me the go-ahead to bring down a hefty slash onto him.

His eyes were halved and I could see he was tired, yet, still managing to keep off my attacks as I continued towards him. He stepped back from each blow I made, where I would just follow up in advancing. Albeit the remaining parts of his body were open, I focused on attack to where his spear was. I cut down onto it, then up onto it, following a smash into it from the side.

He stumbled back—finally out of reach of myself from him—to a good twenty or so feet away from me. His form was degraded and he clung onto his weapon with just one hand, letting the front of it rest on the ground.

It was over.

I let my form sag forward and downward, shoulders relaxing in place. But right out of the corner of my eye, a large explosion went off—right where Reshiram stood.

Bringing my attention up, I just barely managed to swing my body back and out of the way from a white form. I fell back onto my rear, hands landing behind to hold me up as I looked over to my left side.

Impaled into the ground was Reshiram's spear, with a stream of smoke steadily curling up into the air—exiting from the larger bottom of the weapon, as though it was a rocket.

Quickly looking back to my right, my eyes stayed wide as Reshiram stood in a still position while panting—standing as though he had thrown something. Which he had done.

My eyes fell to my chest, where there was a large cut right through my sweatshirt. I groaned and brought a hand over it to feel about, before slumping into place tiredly.

 **[End Song]**

". . . And that's all, huh?" he asked, breathing heavily.

"You mean the fight, right?" I counter-questioned.

"Yeah."

"I would think so—yeah. . . ."

He tilted his head back and laughed, before heaving himself up into a stand. He then followed in walking towards me and looking over myself, before offering a hand.

I took on it, standing up with him.

"Looks like you beat me, huh?" he lightheartedly asked—albeit rhetorical at that.

"You think so?" I asked.

"Oh, definitely . . . you destroyed me in that last part there."

I slouched my form and looked over to the weapon of his, embedded into the ground. I felt him softly pat my back, laughing off more.

"Sorry about that cheap shot, by the way . . . got a little too 'into it' there. . . ."

I turned around, looking down, finding my sword right there. Dropped it when I was nearly impaled by that spear. I leaned over and picked up the weapon, before letting it slide right back into its sheath.

Eyeing back around, Reshiram had been standing there—already with his weapon back in-hand. He leaned against it, gently smiling while looking towards me.

"So . . . you wanna' hear that message now, hm?"

". . . Oh, shoot, y—yes! I do," I told, taking some small excitement in my tone.

"Aha . . . y'know, I was going to tell you anyway—if you had lost that fight . . ." he dragged, "Because when I heard that you actually beat Groudon himself, I didn't exactly believe it."

I blinked for a moment, before letting my shoulders stretch out backward.

"But now that I've seen what you really are . . . how would you like to come see your mom? Probably better than just getting a message, right?"

Instantly, I nodded to him and stuttered, "Y—Yeah, that's better! Please?"

He laughed and waved about a hand with a small motion.

"Okay, okay . . . calm down there, buddy. . . ."

His eyes set off from me and upward for a moment, before falling back down.

"I'm really not supposed to, but . . . I think I'll bring you along—Arceus won't really do anything, anyway."

I kept still with all attention set on him—listening intently, too.

Another time, his eyes shifted about, then back to me—from the side.

"You really want to see your mom, huh?"

"Of course I want to see my mom! Are you crazy or something? It's been . . . a . . . a really long time, y'know . . . ?"

He nodded, mumbling about, "I see. . . ."

Following that, he took a deep inhale, before propping the base of his weapon firmly against the ground. He then offered out his hand to me, before speaking:

"C'mon, then . . . let's go."


End file.
